


Deep Breath

by Pippins_Mushr00ms



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Ew, Gen, Monster of the Week, Panic, i didnt mean to tag Jaskier's dad, idk - Freeform, its just the two of them, just fluffy(ish) nonsense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:41:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23563231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pippins_Mushr00ms/pseuds/Pippins_Mushr00ms
Summary: "You have to calm down. Your heart's beating way too fast."Just a drabble prompt.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	Deep Breath

Prompt

The lakeside had turned unreasonably, startlingly quiet. In a daze, Jaskier found himself laying facedown where the sand turned into grass.

"…Geralt?" Jaskier called hesitantly. _'because what the fuck?'_

He groaned, rolling over and sitting up with difficulty. It was about then he realized how disturbingly silent it was. His heart sped up.

Quiet was a good thing. Right?

His blue eyes devoured the scenery. If he'd been knocked out and Geralt killed, he'd never forgive himself.

Jaskier shoved himself to his feet, still scanning the area. He pat himself down, wincing as aches and pains made themselves known. How far had he been thrown? He took a few experimental steps and was very pleased when his feet stayed beneath him.

"Geraaaal-- oh, there you are! Are you all right?"

The witcher was standing at the water's edge, staring at the fading ripples across the lake. The downers were gone. There was gore in the sand and a dark bloom in the water that was slowly dissipating.

Geralt didn't answer and Jaskier didn't know if he hadn't heard or was actively ignoring the bard. Something about it was… unsettling.

"Geralt," he said again, when he'd reached his friend's back. He put a hand on his shoulder and shook him. "Hey--"

He felt, rather than saw, the movement.

Jaskier, by sheer luck, managed to deflect the fist that easily would have broken his face, but the followup elbow to his solar plexus destroyed him.

Before he could throw up or collapse, the bard found himself pinned on his back in the sand, gagging. Geralt's weight was heavy on him and parts of his armor dug painfully into his skin. The black, leather gauntlet pressed into his throat, constricting his air. The bard clutched at it.

Geralt's eyes were still black. His white hair hung loose, the leather tie missing. The armor covered much, but the bard could see the straining tendons and muscles of his neck. What the hell was wrong with him?

What was that twitching? It was like a spasm.

Was-- was that Geralt's _pulse_?

"Goddamn it," Jaskier wheezed. He lashed out blindly in defense, hand striking near his friend's shoulder. "It's me! Snap out of it-- urk!"

Instead, the witcher pushed him more firmly into the sand, black eyes blank. Jaskier was starting to get angry.

"Geralt, _get_ \- _off_ \- _me_ , - _you_ \- _git!_ "

Each word was punctuated with a sharp blow to Geralt's shoulder. Jaskier wriggled his hardest, freeing a leg up to wrap around the witcher's waist. He pushed as hard as he could, shoving the witcher off him.

Comedically, it happened in slow motion, but Geralt was a big guy. He crashed to the sand next to Jaskier, with a groan, chest heaving, eyes screwed shut. He didn't get back up.

"Gods _above_ , Geralt," coughed Jaskier, pushing the suddenly slack arm off his throat, still angry.

The witcher didn't answer. Couldn't answer. Jaskier didn't know. At least he was looking at the bard normally now, if not a little panicked.

Panicked.

Geralt? Panicking?

"What can I do?" demanded Jaskier.

Geralt hesitated for just a moment, then tapped his chest, motioned to his armor, with an unsteady hand. His breath was still coming in low, ragged gasps.

The witcher's black eyes were starting to swirl with their customary gold by the time Jaskeir had managed to peel most of the leather plates off. The bard left his hands on his shaking shoulders. He let his fingers slide over the witcher's neck, ignoring the way Geralt stiffened.

There. The twitching in his friend's neck was indeed his pulse. It felt more like a vibration than a heartbeat.

"Okay, okay, calm down. Calm down, Geralt. You're not hurt, but you need to breathe. Deep breaths. You need to slow your heart down. Come on--"

"You're-- not hurt?" panted the older man. "I think-- I hit you?"

It was the first thing Geralt had said, and Jaskier would have laughed if he weren't so scared. Especially at the way he craned his head back too look at him. His eyes were mostly gold again.

"Nono, I mean, yes. (Geralt tried to twist around) I mean… just my pride, darling. I may yet vomit," he sighed dramatically. Then he tapped Geralt on the top of his head. "Breathe."

The reminder caused a shudder to run through Geralt's body and he inhaled greedily. Absently, Jaskier rubbed his friend's shoulders, anxious, but cautiously optimistic. Whatever had happened seemed to be passing.

They spent a few moments like that; Geralt, sitting in the sand. Jaskier kneeled behind him, murmuring words of encouragement.

"Thank you," Geralt suddenly muttered.

"It's why I'm here, darling," was Jaskier's automatic response.

When his friend was back to relative normal, the bard did, in fact, crawl off to throw up.


End file.
